


No Dutch Courage Required

by froggydarren



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, Pining, also sort of based on a prompt, other cast members mentioned, related to the Christmas tree incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 05:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4816670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/froggydarren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Christmas tree incident, Dylan is set on making sure it never happens again, because he doesn't want to disappoint Hoechlin. However, staying sober at the next cast party in their apartment wasn't his best idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Dutch Courage Required

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BFive0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BFive0/gifts).



> A birthday gift for Bubbles <3   
> Also, based on the prompt: "We're the only ones sober at this party" and inspired by the infamous [Christmas tree humping incident](http://froggydarren.tumblr.com/post/129272993229) ;)

It happens after the Christmas tree incident. Sure, Dylan is apologetic as fuck, at least if his ramblings are anything to go by, and Tyler is already tired of hearing "sorry" and "no, seriously Hoech, I'm so sorry".  He's not even angry about what happened, he never was in the first place, mostly because of the satisfying feeling of getting to tell Dylan "I told you so."

Nevertheless, the next party happens with that incident still on most people's minds, and Dylan makes yet another promise that nothing like that will happen again.

"Well, the tree is gone now," Tyler points out. "Just please don't hump anything else, okay?"

"I wasn't _humping_ ," Dylan protests loudly.

They're setting up the apartment for the party, which means they're putting away anything breakable and make sure there are enough places for people to crash if they need to.

"Hey, your kinks are your kinks, man," Tyler says, and smirks when Dylan splutters with indignation.

"I wasn't…" Dylan starts saying again, but stops when he sees Tyler cracking up with laughter. "Oh fuck you," he says instead, huffing as he heads into the kitchen.

He can hear Tyler muttering something, but he's still pouting because of the teasing, so he dismisses it and focuses on pulling out solo cups out of the stash they have for parties. Sometimes they go all out with regular glasses, but he knows that this party is likely to go crazy -- everyone is off for a long weekend and barely anyone went home -- so plastic is the safe choice.

Before they know it, the apartment begins filling with their cast mates, and Posey finally shows up too, having dodged the clean-up and preparations by volunteering for a snacks and pizza run. Dylan almost immediately regrets his choice from earlier that day -- he promised that he'd stay sober this time -- because it becomes clear really fast that Holland and Ian were pre-gaming hard.

By the time Crystal, Dan and Posey have caught up on their buzz, Dylan is grumbling at his water bottle and he's wondering how much shit he'll get if he does end up getting drunk. He's about to grab a can of something that at least has a taste and some sugar, and he almost jumps when another hand reaches around him for a can from the same pile he's aiming for.

"Shit, Hoech, make a noise when you move," Dylan says, and he fumbles the can in his hand. "Why are you raiding the cans anyway, isn't there a bigger bottle for mixers?"

"There is," Tyler says and shrugs. "I'm not drinking tonight."

"What, why?" Dylan looks at him with surprise. "I thought I was the DD since I volunteered to stay sober."

"Just didn't feel it tonight," Tyler tells him, and he opens the can.

"Dude, that's brave," Dylan says, grinning. "You'll be sick of their," he nods towards the sitting room, "shit soon."

"I've done it before," Tyler replies after taking a drink. "There's no karaoke at least, so my eardrums won't suffer."

They get interrupted then by Sharman stumbling into the kitchen, obviously already a lot more drunk than even he expected. Tyler's the one who takes over the babysitting, grabbing a bottle of water and leading Dan towards the table. Dylan slips back out and joins the gang in the sitting room, where he's immediately tasked with being the DJ -- mostly because he's the only one still able to work the stereo without breaking it.

By the time he's considering downing the bottle of beer left by Ian on the coffee table, half of their friends are starting to nod off, or have switched to non-alcoholic drinks to be able to get home. Dylan sighs when he ends up feeling left out of a conversation that keeps being interrupted by giggles, and he slips out onto the balcony.

"I thought you said _I'd_ be sick of them," Tyler's voice comes from the corner, and Dylan's heart skips a beat.

"Fuck you, seriously, I'm getting you a neon sign and a fucking jingle bell," Dylan hisses, and slumps onto the floor.

His heart is still beating a little faster than usual, partly from the surprise he just got and partly from something he's not quite willing to acknowledge. Hoechlin being this close -- Dylan landed right next to him in the small space of the balcony -- is a thing that he still hasn't learned to deal with. It's filed in his brain along with singing in the shower, sleep-mussed hair at the kitchen table way too early in the morning, and walking out of the bathroom with a towel barely holding on around Hoechlin's hips. Dylan pointedly ignores all of those things, because hey, it's not like he ever spotted any sign of Tyler even remotely showing any interest.

They get ribbed about the promotion, about Stiles and Derek, and he's had to remind himself that neither their characters nor he and Tyler in real life are involved in the way that he's heard fans mention. Not that he would mind, either on screen or off, but it's not a possibility as far as he's aware.

"I don't know about Christmas decorations," Tyler says with a chuckle. "Would that make you dance on me?"

The words register immediately, and Dylan's cheeks flare up with a blush. He can't answer, because his mind is yelling _oh yes I would_ at him, and even though he's stone-cold sober, he doesn't trust his brain-to-mouth filter. While he's still trying to come up with a response that isn't "damn right I would, preferably naked", Tyler mutters something, and this time Dylan refuses to let it go.

"What was that?"

He barely notices the way Tyler's cheeks redden, but the light from the street lamps is enough to highlight the blush.

"Nothing, I… nothing," Tyler says a little too fast, shaking his head.

"Come on, Hoech, what did you say?" Dylan asks, curious and unable to hold back the teasing tone in his voice.

"Doesn't matter, drop it, D," Tyler says, a little irritation in his voice.

Dylan shuffles a tiny bit closer, until they're knees are touching, and he watches Tyler stare and tug at the frayed ends of his shoelaces for a moment. Then he nudges Tyler's knee, and waits until their eyes meet.

"C'mon man, can't be that bad, can it? Unless you, like, absolutely hate the idea, or worse, you were about to mock my dancing, because that's uncool," Dylan blurts out, flashing back to their exchange earlier that day.

He can laugh at himself and his dancing skills, he knows that he sometimes looks like his legs and arms are too long. Posey once referred to him as a baby giraffe, which Dylan happily took as a compliment because hey, baby animals are cute, and he can deal with cute.

Case in point, Hoechlin barely able to look him in the eyes, bunny teeth worrying over his bottom lip, fingers still tugging at the laces, and cheeks colored darker than earlier. It's adorable, Dylan decides, but it's also distracting him from getting answers.

Finally, Tyler sighs in resignation.

"I don't hate it," he says, almost too quietly for Dylan to hear.

"My dancing?" Dylan asks, a little confused. "That's probably a good thing, because I don't know if I could stop doing that where you can see. I would _try_ , but…"

"No, not just the dancing," Tyler mumbles. "I don't hate that. At all."

"Oh…"

Dylan feels his cheeks heat up when Tyler's words register, because _Tyler wouldn't hate Dylan dancing ON him… near him_ and that's mind-boggling. Immediately, Dylan's mind floods with images of that happening, and somehow his brain takes a sharp dive right into the naked kind, which makes his dick twitch in anticipation.

_Not now_ , he thinks, trying to ignore his arousal. It's not surprising, really, because about half the time he's turned on by something Tyler does -- or something Dylan imagines him doing. However, he has more important things to deal with right now. Like the reason that Hoech is back to staring at his shoes and nibbling on his bottom lip.

"You… oh…" Dylan says, and tries hard to figure out how words work. "You don't… you wouldn't mind. The dancing thing. You… you'd want that to happen."

It's not a question, and somehow it _is_ , because while Dylan said the sentence, he's still processing that it was a statement. The almost imperceptible nod from Tyler gives him further confirmation, and Dylan's mind is spinning. Because somehow they went from being sober at a party to Dylan finding out that whatever dreams he had about Tyler are actually in the realm of possibility.

"So, uh… I'm definitely not drunk enough for the dancing, but," Dylan says and moves his hand to rest on Tyler's knee, "is this okay?"

Tyler nods, leans forward a little, and Dylan mirrors the movement without thinking. When Tyler looks up, they're closer than they've ever been, and Dylan sees a myriad of emotions play in Tyler's eyes. He lifts his other hand to Tyler's cheek -- tries not to get distracted by how the familiar stubble feels against his palm -- and closes the remaining gap between them.

It's a slow kiss, tentative, like testing waters and limits, and Dylan is waiting for Tyler to pull away at first, after their lips meet. He's the one who kissed Tyler, and yet he's caught off-guard when Tyler lets out a small gasp and then kisses back. Their lips move against each other slowly, and neither of them deepens the kiss, but Dylan feels like it's enough -- it's already more than he let himself hope for. When they finally pull away, he feels his cheeks burning and doesn't miss the blush on Tyler's face either.

"So…" Dylan starts, and smiles, still a little shaken, "that happened."

"Yeah," Tyler nods.

Unlike before, when he was avoiding Dylan's gaze, he doesn't look away. There's hope in his eyes, and a little touch of wariness, and Dylan wants nothing more than to get rid of that.

"I've kind of wanted to do that for a while now," he admits, hoping that being honest is the right thing to do.

Tyler's eyes widen in surprise before he says: "Yeah, me too."

Dylan shifts, both his hands on Tyler's knees, and he nudges at them to make Tyler move. After a little more shuffling, Dylan is sitting with his back against Tyler's chest, bracketed by Tyler's legs, their hands intertwined and resting on Dylan's stomach.

"So, is this…" he tries to point between them, but fails because there's no way he's letting Tyler's hands go, "…is this a thing?"

"Depends," Tyler says, and Dylan can feel him shrug. "What do you want it to be?"

Dylan thinks for a moment, stops himself from blurting something like _everything_ or _marry me_ , and then he moves to look at Tyler.

"Would you go out with me? Dinner, I mean. Or movies, whatever," he says, and it's a good thing that his hands are still held by Tyler's, because he immediately wants to facepalm.

_This is worse than_ _'Do you like me? Circle yes or no'_ , he thinks, feeling more flustered and anxious than he had since his first crushes in middle school.

"I'd love that," Tyler answers before Dylan can berate himself any further.

Dylan lets out a relieved breath, and tilts his head until he's close enough to kiss Tyler again.

_Being sober is pretty cool_ , is the last coherent thought he has before he loses himself in the kiss.


End file.
